Annunciation
by Athena Phoenix 144
Summary: Various members of the League must face family issues. A drabble series following “The Once and Future Thing”.
1. Fathers and Sons

**Fathers and Sons**

"You need to know," he stated, then told her about the future: the Leaguers' deaths, elderly Bruce, her disappearance….

And Warhawk.

Despite his worry, John's eyes softened with pride when he spoke of Rex. She'd seen that same expression on Bruce's face when he mentioned Dick. Two men, two sons: one created from his father's substance, the other grafted onto his father's heart.

_How strange that life should begin from a man and a woman's union. _Her own magically-created body, formed from clay, was sterile. Barren.

Half-listening, she wondered whether Bruce would be relieved or saddened to learn that fact.


	2. Contingencies

**Contingencies**

Batman entered every possible scenario into his program.

Given Warhawk's apparent age, his conception would probably occur within the next eight months, eventually excluding Hawkgirl from combat. Although she was just one of fifty-odd members, her absence would affect the League's tactics, particularly against magical enemies.

It would also affect morale, whether the pregnancy resulted from a brief reminiscence-induced fling or a resumption of the relationship that had nearly led to Earth's destruction. Either could divide the League, hampering their ability to work together.

He paused, considering whether a well-timed distraction would avoid the issue – or seal their world's fate.


	3. Primogenitor

Author's Note: Contains spoilers for "The Balance".

**Primogenitor**

He called me his child.

My fury blazed. I am no man's possession – least of all his. How dare he claim any part in my creation?

I always imagined the scene this way: my mother scooping the clay from the earth, moistening it with her tears, and shaping it with her strong, gentle hands. She required no man's help.

Her love made me who I am and the gods' gifts made me who I could be. I need no father.

Shayera asked why I declined to use the lasso. I am no coward, yet some paths are best left unexplored.


	4. Choices

**Choices**

John sat wearily at the bar, head in his hands.

He could make combat decisions instantly, but when it came to women, words failed.

Somehow, he and Shayera were going to have a son. The thought obsessed him, and he was sure Mari had noticed. He loved her – he loved them both – but Shy was his destiny.

She _had_ to be. He sure as hell wasn't going to have a one-night stand for old time's sake. Kids deserved to have committed parents.

Telling Mari, though…He tried to envision that conversation ending well, and couldn't.

Sighing, he signaled for another bourbon.


	5. Bird of Paradise

**Bird-of-Paradise**

(Spoilers for "Hunter's Moon")

She knew their breakup was imminent the instant she saw him come backstage, his face peering over a huge bouquet of bird-of-paradise. He'd always said that its exotic beauty reminded him of her.

But though his mouth was smiling, his eyes were sad. And it didn't take a Martian to figure out why.

Mari longed to embrace him and kiss his sensuous lips, but forced herself to remain aloof, remembering his month-long absence. What the hell did she need with an underwear-folding Marine anyway? She regarded him coolly, stifling any impulse to cry.

"You've always had a thing for birds."


	6. Four AM

**Four A.M.**

He gazed at the slumbering woman next to him, noticing how the sheet draped gently over her curves.

Diana was always the one who fell asleep immediately afterward, while he remained awake. Watching. Etching her image into his memory, knowing that their future was tenuous at best. Yet he had finally agreed to let down his guard, to open his cave and his heart to her. They would share the risks of love – and the rewards.

He considered the possibility of young blue-eyed, black-haired Bats who could fly without jet packs or jump lines, and allowed himself a brief smile.


	7. Profile

**Profile**

Shayera turned and gazed at her reflection in the mirror, trying to determine if her change in appearance was noticeable.

This wasn't supposed to happen. The scientists had assured her that humans and Thanagarians were genetically incompatible, that crossbreeding was impossible.

_Shows how much _they_ knew._ That little "impossibility" was making her nauseated, tired, and – according to John – "even more irritable than usual."

It was strange; when she'd told him, he hadn't seemed surprised. In fact, she thought she'd heard him mutter under his breath, "Time."

Odd. Not "about time." Just "_time_."

She wondered what _else_ he hadn't told her.


	8. Inheritance

**Inheritance**

Diana was tired and sweaty, yet triumphant.

Her newborn daughter lay squalling in Bruce's arms, resisting his attempts to entice her with a bottle. "She has your temper," he observed.

"And _your_ stubbornness," Diana retorted.

He placed his finger in one of the infant's tiny hands, and she grabbed it tightly. "She's got your strength as well."

"Hera help us."

Diana's eyes snapped open. She was alone in Bruce's bed. Reflexively, she ran her hand over her abdomen, feeling its flatness, its firmness.

It had been only a dream – _an impossible one, at that_. Yet it had felt so real...


	9. Next Generation

**Next Generation**

"_What's this – a superhero breeding program?"_

"_Is there something in the water?"_

Flash told anyone who'd listen, though all agreed that he'd grown up quickly once Fire had informed him of their twins.

Shayera glared and reached for her mace if anyone dared broach the subject.

Black Canary's sonic cry was mute until Batman could finish and test her protective garment – or until her and Arrow's son was born.

Superman had proudly passed around the ultrasound photo at the last Inner Council meeting.

No one had the courage to ask, but Diana noticed a few people glancing at her midsection.


	10. The Future's Not What It Used to Be

Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge and inspired by the prompt "weeks".

**The Future's Not What It Used to Be**

John tried to help Shayera undress and don the gown, but she insisted on doing it herself.

He shivered. _Why are these rooms always ice-cold?_

After a perfunctory knock, the obstetrician entered. She was new to the League's medical staff, courtesy of the Queen Foundation. John knew Shayera was glad to avoid spending hours in a waiting room, trying to ignore everyone staring at her wings.

The exam proceeded, and finally the moment arrived. John leaned forward to see the image on the screen.

_Sixteen weeks. They should be able to tell by now._

"Congratulations, you two. It's a girl."


	11. Making Other Plans

**Making Other Plans**

John had often heard the expression "Life's what happens to you when you're making other plans." It seemed particularly appropriate ever since he and Shayera had learned that they were having a daughter.

He wondered if they should name her Regina, or if doing so would be admitting that Rex would never be born.

Or would he? Just because John had only seen Warhawk in the future didn't mean that Rex couldn't have an older sister. He and his son had been too busy battling the Jokerz to talk much.

He shook his head slowly. Something just didn't seem right.

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Life_


	12. Butterflies and Thunderstorms

**Butterflies and Thunderstorms**

"Did you tell her?"

John nearly choked on his roast beef sandwich. Swallowing quickly, he managed to sputter, "Did I _what?_"

"You heard me. Did you tell Shayera about the future?"

"Of course not!"

Bruce persisted, "Did you tell _anyone_?"

John sighed. "I told Diana. What – why would _that_ matter?"

"Chaos theory."

"Is that the idea that a butterfly flapping its wings in China can cause a thunderstorm in Metropolis? You sound like The Question."

"This time he might be right. By telling Diana, you may have changed the future irrevocably – starting with your daughter."

"Would that be so bad?"

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Storm_


	13. Detective Work

**Detective Work**

_A double drabble, written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Follows "Fathers and Sons", "Four A.M.", "Inheritance", and "Next Generation". Prompt: Lunch_

Bruce watched the recording again, frame by frame.

He and Diana sparred in slow motion: punch, block, kick …and there it was. As his foot neared her torso, she protected her abdomen with her arm and turned her body to the right, leaving her left side vulnerable. His kick landed behind her knee, which buckled, and she fell.

He'd never been able to catch her off guard that way before.

Bruce considered his other observations. Yesterday, he'd seen Diana's lunch tray in the commissary. It had only crackers and a bowl of soup – hardly enough to maintain her muscle mass – and her usual coffee was missing.

And just a few nights ago, in a rare moment of sentimentality, he'd run his hands over her abdomen and wondered whether their children would have her strength. She'd stiffened almost immediately and changed the subject.

He tried to remain logical – there wasn't enough evidence – but it was almost impossible whenever Diana was involved. He recalled trying to dig her out of the Gorilla City rubble with his bare hands.

A dull ache formed in his stomach. Though part of him was hopeful, he was also angry and afraid. Why hadn't she told him?


	14. The Other Road

**The Other Road**

Bruce had never answered John's question, "Would that be so bad?"

The future he'd seen had looked grim – not _hopeless_, but darker than he'd ever thought possible.

Wasn't the known easier to face than the unknown?

But perhaps it was too late for that. John and Shayera's unborn daughter – his _own_ _child_ – surely proved that things were changing. Years from now, he couldn't possibly be a lonely, bitter old man if he had a wife and child, could –?

Unless something had happened to –

No. He refused to think about it.

_Was it truly better to have loved and lost…?_

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Years_


	15. Interrogation

**Interrogation**

He was just drifting off into sated sleep when Shayera spoke, her breath tickling his chest hair.

"Tell me what's going on."

He murmured, "Well, on _this_ planet, we call it sleeping –"

She poked him playfully. "You talked in your sleep last night. Said something about time and Rex. What are you and Metamorpho up to?"

"Just a practical joke. Bats has been looking way too serious lately."

"Some joke," she scoffed. "You've mentioned it every night this week."

Then Shayera sat up with a start. "John? Why do you have that look on your face? _What's going on?_"

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Touch_


	16. Resolution

**Resolution**

Shayera took the news better than he expected – but perhaps it helped that her mace was out of reach.

She stared at the monitor for a moment and then turned to Dr. Montez, demanding, "Put me back on active duty."

John laid his hand on her shoulder. "Shayera –"

She shrugged it off. "Well!"

Dr. Montez intervened, "It's not safe; the miscarriage could happen any day now, and we don't know how Thana–"

Shayera snarled, "I said, _put me back on active duty._ Now!"

Even in his sadness, John felt sorry for any supervillains who might cross her path.

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Death_


	17. Orange Blossoms

**Orange Blossoms**

_A double drabble following "Detective Work" and "The Other Road"._

Diana arrived to find Bruce already in her quarters, staring at her painting of Zeus abducting Europa. She had barely closed the door when he snapped, "When were you going to tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important," she protested. "You never said –"

He spun around to face her. "_Our child_ isn't important?"

Strangely, she felt an insane urge to giggle.

He had slid off his cowl and his blue eyes were cold with fury. "You think this is _funny_?"

She turned away. Her shoulders shook, and suddenly he realized that she wasn't laughing, but _sobbing_. He slipped his arm around her and guided her to the chair, kneeling beside her as she sat, leaning close enough to smell the orange blossom scent of her shampoo.

After a moment, she pushed her hair out of her face and looked at him. "I'm not pregnant, Bruce. In fact, I'll _never_ be pregnant."

He sat back on his heels, stunned.

Diana rested her hand on his shoulder. "The gods gave me life, but not the ability to create it."

His mind reeled. He heard his observations, his conclusions spill from his lips.

She wore a small, sad smile. "Stomach flu."

_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Smell_


End file.
